


King Woozi

by outillthesunup



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Crack, Farmer Seventeen, Gen, Jihoon is tiny boi, Lady man jeonghan, Pathetic attempts at rebellion, Seungcheol POV, Seungcheol about to kill a bish, Seungcheol is so done, Seungcheol's guard is a dick, Seungkwan’s pitchfork, Tea time has never been the same, seventeen crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23741104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outillthesunup/pseuds/outillthesunup
Summary: For the seventeenth time that day Seungcheol regretted this damned rebellion.
Kudos: 7





	King Woozi

The heavy, metal chains rattled as Seungcheol shifted to the side on his sore, aching knees. The cold stone floor was biting through his tattered, cotton pants and his body was trembling with shivers.

He was getting tired already, so far he’d attempted to sit on his hunches twice but the guard standing behind him had kicked him until he’d shakily gotten back up. They seemed determined to keep them all on their knees for some unfathomable reason.

Seungcheol glanced to the left at the rest of his small group of rebels. It wasn’t much, eleven, counting himself, but it was better then none at all.

Jisoo, Minghao, and Wonwoo seemed to be holding up pretty well. Hoshi, Seokmin, Mingyu and Junhui, not so well, and Seungkwan, Hansol and Chan weren’t even trying.

He abruptly turned his head back to the front in embarrassment.

 _Again, better than nothing_.

He winced at the thought. This was not how he’d pictured finally meeting that tyrant of a man who called himself a king. In his head they had swooped into the throne room, swiftly overtaking the guards and held everyone at sword point, which honestly was the first on the list of many problems with the plan, considering exactly none of them actually owned a sword.

A few of them had knifes, Minghao had his trusty staff, Chan had a sling shot and Seungkwan had his pitchfork. And Hansol, heavens help him, had a whole deck of playing cards he insisted he could throw hard enough to cut everyone up. So far they had seen none of said cut-everyone (or anyone for that matter) up action.

His shoulders slumped in defeat, he could see no way they’d make it out of this in one piece, or even with just a few missing limbs. These were the sorriest lot he’d ever met.

He suddenly regretted ever deciding to start up his own rebellion. Honestly a few extra coins added to the tax amount wasn’t even that bad, but he’d stab himself with Seungkwan’s pitchfork before he’d ever admit it to anyone.

Besides, there was also the thing with the fireworks and the paved roads taking over the countryside.

At this point there was hardly any land left to farm with a bunch of losers with carts always stomping through and flattening everything in their path.

_Stupid, selfish merchants._

Tea time has never been the same.

The door creaked and his head shot up, only to be smacked back down. Behind him a guard snorted, cracking his knuckles with a smirk on his lips.

“Been wanting to do that for a while now.” The guard muttered.

_Prick._

Seungcheol hated him with all his might.

The heavy wooden door swung open behind the group and Seungcheol stiffened in anticipation.

This was it. This was finally it! They were going to meet that overstuffed weasel of a king who dared to issue a national holiday every month just for a day of rest. Bah! Holidays are overrated, hard work is where it’s at!

Besides, farmers like Seungcheol couldn’t afford a holiday, and if he couldn’t have one then nobody else could either! As far as he was concerned anyway.

He tried to discreetly peek at the door from the side of his eyes but the guard noticed and promptly smacked him upside the head. Seungcheol gritted his teeth and plotted bloody murder.

The loud _clack clack_ of the ugliest pair of shoes he’d ever seen in his life (and no he was not jealous thank you very much) echoed through the room and then a lady, who was for some reason wearing a tunic stopped just to the right of the group. Seungcheol strained to look up without moving his head so he could properly see her.

Now he wasn’t judging or anything, dresses are nice and all but they just don’t do what pants do, but this was pretty rare for a court lady to be wearing a tunic.

_Also, helllloooo where’s the overstuffed weasel?_

_Unless…_

Surely the king wasn’t secretly a lady, right? It would explain the holidays and the silly flower festivals but wouldn’t this be like, common knowledge or something??

He- or she- or whatever! _was_ pretty enough (not that he noticed or anything) that nobody should question her lady-ness even if she was wearing a tunic…

But isn’t he- or she whatever, supposed to be evil and all? She looked a little snobby but that’s about it…

She stepped forward to address the captain of the guards and they immediately straightened to attention. Seungcheol held his breath in anticipation for their inevitable sentence.

“Sir,” the captain of the guard acknowledged with a respectful bow of the head.

Wait.

What.

_Sir?_

What the shit.

The lady-man sniffed at the guard, nose in the air.

“I have come to inform you that his majesty will not be able to meet with the captives today and wishes to postpone to a later date,” _he_ (apparently) said as if this were one of those silly dress up parties the king liked to throw- as if they weren’t _forced_ to attend this stupid party! Stupid weasel.

“Take them back to their holding cells."

_Oh. Come. ON!_

For the seventeenth time that day Seungcheol regretted this damned rebellion.

_I mean its not like there were any more rebels besides his group here, but it’s the thought that counts right?_

“Yes Sir!” The guards chorused and bowed again.

Lady-man did a one eighty on his right foot and pranced off and out of sight.

The guard behind Seungcheol took this as ample opportunity to knee Seungcheol in the back.

“Get up!”

Seungcheol snarled.

.........................

Three days. It was three days later and they still hadn’t met the king.

Seungcheol was pissed.

“I’d take the bloody flower festivals any day!” Mingyu moaned in derision.

“Think of the roads, Mingie, think of the roads.” Jisoo muttered.

_Stupid roads._

………………...........

Five days after they were confined to this damned wretched cell the guards finally finally came to get them. Which to be honest was yay and all but they were absolute jerks so Seungcheol took the three seconds of prep he had to mentally prepare himself to refrain from killing a bitch.

And he didn’t even have to go out of his way to do it because after five whole days of being locked in with this bunch of nut-jobs he was getting to be an expert.

Obviously Captain Prick had the honour of escorting Seungcheol once again and took as many opportunities as possible to push him faster.

Seungcheol hated him so much it took all of those five days of practice to hold him back till they finally arrived at the foot of the throne again to await the king.

In some far off part of his mind that wasn’t dedicated to restraining himself from kneeing the guard in the privates he wondered why they always arrived before the king in his own damned throne room.

Thankfully they didn’t have to wait long this time (because Seungcheol was _this close omg_ ) before the door flew open and in stormed like half an army. Seungcheol found this so amusing that he nearly earned himself another kick to the side by keeling over in laughter.

_This pathetic lot couldn’t even get past the guards watching the castle gates and there were like two of them._

Once the king’s twelve-thousand personal guards had all found a convenient place to stand, in marched the other twelve-thousand servants. The lead servant was holding a small ornate, golden foot stool which he nearly tripped over himself to set at the foot of the throne before the king arrived surrounded by his company.

The Lady-man arrived next and took his place beside the throne where he immediately proceeded to glare at anyone who dared look at him too long. His beady eyes landed on the small group of rebels and the whole group stiffened to unmoving wooden planks in seconds. Behind him someone whimpered.

Seungcheol fell in love a little.

A guard slammed the butt of his spear into the ground and the room quieted in seconds. Everyone straightened and bowed to the waist as the king made his way to the throne.

Decked in robes of silk with a fashionable cape wrapped around his surprisingly small shoulders, it was hard to take a clear guess at the proportions of this man, but there was one thing for sure as he approached the throne and stepped on the stool to reach the seat.

_This boi tiny._

Before he could stop himself he blurted out, voice raising in an almost hysterical squeak, “You’re the King?!”

His voice echoed like thunder in the dead silence of the room and he immediately cringed.

To his utter shock the guard didn’t even _shove_ him for his stupidity, and if his mind weren’t already reeling he would’ve stumbled _anyway_ at the mere idea of not getting an admittedly well deserved kick.

Despite nearly cringing into a puddle on the floor, Seungcheol couldn’t help but stare at the absurdity of the situation.

_This CHILD was clearly still a fetus (Regrettably a cute fetus but that’s not the point). And he couldn’t possibly be the evil behind this whole scheme-_

Child-King’s eyes narrowed in a glare and Seungcheol knew without a doubt that this was indeed the mastermind behind this whole shit show.

“Give me one reason I should put up with you pathetic lot.” The king drawled, a soft voice to match his exotic looks with just the right amount of threatening that spoke of years of dealing with everyone’s BS.

Seungcheol shivered in a way the cold of a wet dungeon floor could never come close to achieving. He’d never been so terrified in his life.

“It was all Seungcheol’s idea!” Seungkwan blurted out, not even hesitating in throwing Seungcheol under the bus. Half the group immediately voiced their agreements in the aggressive nodding of their heads.

 _“WHAT?!”_ Seungcheol snarled, head whipping up so fast he nearly broke his neck, all thoughts of fear flying out the window. “You traitorous two-timing ungrateful brats!! You just wait till I get out of here, imma whoop your asses so hard you wont be able to sit for a week!” he snarled in rage.

He lunged at the nearest person (poor Minghao), and head butted him with the fury of a mother scorned. A resounding _thunk_ echoed in the room, Seungcheol managed to knock over Chan, and Hoshi and was mere millimeters away from head butting Seungkwan a new one before the guards caught up to him and dragged his back, kicking and screeching, hands still chained behind his back.

Captain Prick took this as ample opportunity of shoving him face down on the floor, a fistful of hair in his meaty grasp and sat all of his three hundred pounds glory on Seungcheol’s poor malnourished farmer bones. Seungcheol wheezed for breath, nearly choking on his tongue as he was abruptly cut off mid screech.

 _“Ge oaaff you ofpergrown warthog,”_ Seungcheol gasped between choked hacks, face already turning blue.

In a move of proper Prickly McPrick fashion he forced Seungcheol’s face flat onto the floor and rubbed in into the ground till he was satisfied with his level of asshole and finally got to his feet. Seungcheol immediately got to his knees coughing and gasping as his poor abused lungs slowly refilled.

The king took one look at them, half sprawled on the floor clutching their heads and the other half still trying to regain their balance from the impromptu attack after their strategic betrayal and his scowl shifted into incredulous disgust and disbelief at the sheer amount of stupidity in this room. He promptly dropped his head into his tiny little hands and spoke with a voice that rivaled the monotone of a fan, “You know what just leave. Just take them away, before we catch their stupid.”

“Heavens knows there’s enough stupid in this palace,” he muttered before climbed down from his ridiculously huge throne, unto his little golden stool and practically sprinted out of the room before anyone could stop him.

There was a pause of absolute silence before the entire room erupted into chaos, servants tripping over each other, guards rushing after the king, Lady-man snatched up the golden stool and shoved through everyone in a sprint to match the kings.’ The door slammed shut leaving Seungcheol and the members of their tiny rebellion sprawled on the floor hands still chained behind their backs.

“Ummm… hello?”

“Anyone?”

Silence.

“Flip damn it I hate you guys.”


End file.
